


Punching Above Your Weight Class, Or, When to Keep Your Big Mouth Shut

by EradiKate



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: #an exercise in profanity, #assassin, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Gen, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 07:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EradiKate/pseuds/EradiKate
Summary: This is what my GM calls headcanon, but I call fanfic of our current campaign.  Tess is an assassin with a chip on her shoulder and the swearing habits of a sailor.





	Punching Above Your Weight Class, Or, When to Keep Your Big Mouth Shut

Everything hurt.  They’d been fighting their way through the City of Brass for what seemed like days now, and while she had a shiny new DEATHSPIKE to show for it, the difficult part lay ahead.

 

The moderately annoying part, the sultan, still stood before them.  Quarion was as collected as ever (note to self: research half-elf nerves of adamantium if you survive), Lore was slightly unhinged as usual, and Damanor...was as high as a kite.  

 

Tess was angry, still.  This Amon Amarth character, whoever the fuck he was, wanted to destroy the whole fucking world.  And now she had to listen to some self-involved fuckwit styling himself the Sultan bitch about how hard it was to be king, and worse, call her a little girl.

 

“What the fuck did you just call me?”  She was Tessana Freaking Penhallow, Embodiment of Shadow, one of the Paragons of Eoris.

 

The smug bastard didn’t even blink.  “You seem upset, child.”

 

No shit.  “I’ve got no sympathy for you, asshole.  Quit bitching, I don’t want to listen to you.”

 

When he obliged her, she thought fleetingly that maybe this would have been the right time to keep her mouth shut.

 

All this time, they’d been punching slightly outside their weight class, and this one didn’t look much different.  But the asshole decided to grow several feet and summon a pair of wyrms, and suddenly Tess felt a lot less certain about her ability to survive this battle.

 

Speed, then, was to be her ally.  She was used to having quicker reflexes than most, and loosed an arrow at one of the wyrms, using the distraction its shriek provided to hide herself among the shadows.  The fight well and truly broke out then, Sultan Shit of Fuck All apparently taking her insolence as the personal insult she’d meant it to be.

 

Her blood ran cold as she realized King Fuckface was making eye contact with her, despite what she was confident was a nearly inhuman ability to disappear from sight.  He smiled patronizingly, said something about arrogance, and made a lazy gesture.  Tess felt the beginning of a spell wrap around her, then nearly leapt out of her skin as the strange sash she’d been wearing since Becket Steinwalt gave it to her erupted in flame.

 

That seemed to give His Royal Asshattery pause, and she waved at him with her middle finger, uncertain of what had just happened but taking the advantage nonetheless.  Once she’d skewered the wyrm’s draconic danglies, she was going to have a hell of a time stabbing Little Prince Pompous Bitch.

 

Grinning madly, probably looking a bit like Lore in her more murderous moods, Tess dashed up the stairs, activating her blade’s more interesting properties and preparing to strike at a critical point.  Bless Damanor for providing her the opportunity, distracting Sultan Taint-Licker long enough to sink her rapier into a weak point in the armor.

 

She took a hit, then a second.  The old wounds ached, the new ones were sharp and bright with pain.  Still, Tess stood her ground and once again the rapier and dagger found weaknesses, almost taking pleasure in the blood she spilled.

 

Lord Flaming Asshole was wholly angry by then.  “I see I was mistaken.  You’re not a little girl, you’re a woman.  And deserving of my full attention.”

 

As his sword struck down upon her, she twisted, hoping to mitigate some of the hurt he rained down upon her.  “Oh, great.  You’re not just an evil, self-absorbed asshole, you’re also a fucking creep!”  Another blow.  “Bring it, loser!”  And with the third, Tessana Penhallow dropped unconscious.


End file.
